


coke and peanuts

by ficfucker



Series: saddle soarin': a rabbit lightning collection [2]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: (kind of), Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, Loving Sex, M/M, Panty Kink, all that good stuff it's just sweet idk, for redd i guess, oh also??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 08:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19902874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficfucker/pseuds/ficfucker
Summary: if redd wants to "go at it like rabbits" who is lohn to deny him that?





	coke and peanuts

Lohn has been playing Street Fighter with his crotch pressed up against the front of the cabinet long enough that he figures if he doesn’t unstick himself from it soon, he’ll owe child support. So Lohn plays one more round on his last quarter and when the screen flashes with “INSERT COIN”, he grabs his bottle of Coke, swishes the peanuts in the bottom, and takes a long sip, turning around to look for Redd. They’d played the bar earlier and Redd had gone off to have some drinks, maybe dance with some gals or fellas on the floor, while Lohn gravitated towards the two games the establishment had by the doors: Street Fighter and Pacman. 

Lohn is patting down the back pockets of his blue jeans to ensure he’s got his wallet and keys (he does), when an arm swings around his neck and catches him by his necklace in the deep V of his unbuttoned shirt black shirt. “Whoa Nelly, brother,” Lohn gasps, steadying the two of them, grabbing Redd by the hip, tightening his hold on his Coke so it doesn’t slosh over. 

“You bin playin’ games this whole time, Lightnin’? Didn’t even come lookin’ for yer Rabbit?” 

Lohn giggles and gives Redd a nudge in the side, smiles over at him. Instead of answering him, he asks, “How juiced are ya, Redd?” He doesn’t need to ask: Redd smells like whiskey, his orange glasses pushed up on his nose ever so slightly crooked, his face flushed. 

Redd leans in close and, twirling his fingers in loops around Lohn’s necklace, kisses the sensitive spot just below his ear, and Lohn giggles again, pushing on him playfully. “Jus’ juiced enough, pretty thing,” he breathes hot on Lohn’s neck. “Wanna ride that lightnin’. Go at it like-like rabbits wichya.” 

Lohn pushes him away fully, Redd refusing to let go of Lohn’s necklace, holding it like a lead, and they’re both smiling hard, Lohn shaking his head, smirking as he steers them towards the doors. “Good thing I only had my Coke then, huh? Gotta drive yer sloshed rear home.” 

“Wanna get ya horizontal,” Redd announces as Lohn pushes open the glass door. The lot is quiet other than the noise leaking out from inside the bar, the distant fiddling of crickets and peeping frogs, and their boots crunch the gravel. It’s cool out, the night crisp and inky blue. 

Lohn opens the passenger door to his pickup, watches to make sure Redd gets in safely, and despite his stumble, he does. “Hush down, Redd. Ya ain’t gotta tell the whole dang city, you know. I’m right here wit’ ya.” 

He gets in and starts the truck, prompting Redd to fiddle with the squat, black radio knobs until he lands on Willie Nelson and immediately starts to drawl along. Lohn hands him his Coke, Redd takes it, and holds it between his thighs. 

“Wanna tell the whole - the whole dang city how pretty you are, Lohn Lightning,” Redd says, his voice all soft and dewy, like he’s talking about records going platinum. He inches closer to Lohn in the cab, bumps his knee off his guitar case, and grumbles as if it’s materialized just now with intention to cock block him, getting Lohn to laugh. 

“Yer plastered, Redd. An’ foolish as a randy hound out of matin’ season.” 

“Wanna be plastered against you, boy.” Redd sips from Lohn’s soda, nestles it between his legs again, and tries a second time to get over closer to Lohn, smart enough now to move the guitar out of the way, though it takes some concentrated maneuvering on Redd’s part, the object too bulky for his drunk mind to grasp. He gets it leaned against the passenger door and seems satisfied with it, pressing himself thigh to thigh with Lohn. 

“Well, there ya go. Plastered ‘gainst me. No touchin’ in the truck, though, you know the rules.” 

“I ain’t touchin’,” Redd says, overly innocent in his inflection. He rests his head to Lohn’s shoulder and mouths along to the radio, eyes closed, and Lohn’s heart flutters when Redd’s hair tickles him. 

He presses harder on the gas and they whistle down the near empty freeway. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  


“Redd,” Lohn murmurs, pulling his lips away a split second. “Redd, Lord, gimme a jiff to get the door open here,” and as soon he gets that line out, his mouth is captured by Redd’s again, his large frame flush against his, pushing and grinding, not aggressively, but certainly needy. Lohn fumbles with his keys, his other hand to Redd’s bare arm, just below where his black tassels end.

Redd giggles and to give Lohn a chance to unlock their motel door, starts kissing his throat. Lohn makes a chittering, breathy noise and misses the keyhole twice before clicking the small metal piece into place and turning it hard. They stumble into the room, giggling, boots shuffling backwards, arms and legs all tangled together like vines, and they land on the rumpled white sheets of the bed. 

“Don’t furget yer guitar out there,” Lohn reminds, and Redd mutters, “Aw, shoot.” He gets it from the hall and closes the door, rests the case so it’s sitting person-like in one of the armchairs, then saunters back over to Lohn, resuming his swarm of kisses without a hitch. 

“Goll-ee, Redd, you actin’ like you bin out to war or sumthin’ an’ we ain’t seen each other in months,” Lohn remarks. It’s obvious how much he’s enjoying the attention, how excited he is that Redd is so eager and wanting, both of them tenting in their jeans, faces warm and ruddied. 

Redd, who seems a tad sobered by the ride back, whispers, “Jus’ lucky is all. Wanna show you that I know how lucky I am to have a pardner like you.” 

Lohn smiles, rubs his nose side to side against Redd’s, trails his hands down to Redd’s lap to start undoing his jeans. “Yer a fool, Moonshine, an’ I love you mighty fer it.” 

“Love you mighty for all  _ you _ are, Lohn,” Redd whispers, bending over to grab Lohn’s boots and slide them off, drawing off his own while Lohn still works on flies and buttons. Boots and socks removed, Redd sits upright and helps Lohn finish with their jeans, sliding those off so they’re sitting on the edge of the bed in their shirts and underwear. 

“How you wanna do this?” Lohn asks in a soft voice. He curls a hand around Redd over his underwear, the warmth and heft of Redd’s arousal, the stuttering gasp he bites out at contact, bringing Lohn to full erection. 

“You on top of me.” Redd is back to leaning over Lohn, kissing and biting his neck.

“Mm.” 

“An’ keep these on,” Redd murmurs, running his hands over Lohn’s lace underwear, squeezing his thighs. 

Lohn can feel his face warm hotter. He’d forgotten about what he was wearing under his jeans: the dark purple panties from the six pack pair he’d gotten for their most recent touring, insisting they felt better than what men typically wear and, as a bonus, give them good luck for shows. It’s not for Redd, but the fact that Redd always seems delighted and hungry whenever he peels Lohn’s layers back to find lace or silk adds to the list of why he likes them so much. 

“How ya gonna manage that?” Lohn asks, and he feels silly over how breathless he sounds

Redd grins, wolfish, and pulls away, stands up so he’s looming over Lohn on the bed, and he takes off Lohn’s hat, puts it on himself, gestures for Lohn to hold his arms out so Redd can take off his floral coat. Lohn does and Redd removes the coat, drops it to the floor with all the other discarded clothes in a Rabbit Lightning heap. Lohn’s black button up goes next and then he’s sitting there under the gaze of Redd in only his panties, Redd still in his shirt, Lohn’s hat, his white briefs. 

“Lean back,” Redd instructs. 

Lohn complies, lays back in the sheets, and his heart speeds up, looking at Redd looking at him. He somehow feels more exposed than he would normally naked, probably because Redd keeps sweeping his gaze down at where Lohn is hard in his panties, pressing up to the fencing pattern of purple lace. “Enjoyin’ the show?” Lohn teases. 

Redd smiles, a soft smile despite the electric feeling to the air, the hysterical need between them, and kneels down, says, “Got the best seat in town.” He presses light teasing kisses to Lohn’s thighs, trailing up until he’s at the crook where his leg attaches to his hip, leaning his face so his beard grates the bare skin, and Lohn quivers under his touch. He wants to get up on his elbows so badly, look down at what Redd is doing, but he doesn’t want to shift any, so he just lets his eyes slip close, feels his stomach rise and drop as he breathes. 

“Done got ya horizontal,” Redd comments and they both giggle. 

Lohn is still snorting and smiling when he hears the small clicking of a cap being snapped open and his breathing catches, his stomach coiling with warmth. “Go easy, Redd,” Lohn whispers up to the ceiling. 

A drawer squeaks shut by the table and Redd brushes his beard against Lohn’s thigh again before curling a finger into the elastic strap of his underwear, pulling it aside so Lohn is exposed just enough. “I’m always easy on ya, ain’t I?” He presses a slick finger to Lohn’s entrance, ghosts it over a few times like reading braille before slowly pushing in up to the first knuckle. 

Lohn exhales and his hands knot in the sheets, his face twisted funny. “Not always. Not when I’m askin’ ya to be rough,” he says, voice hushed, and he smiles despite himself, thinking of the last time they were really manhandling each other: in their trailer after a show, grabbing at belts and shirt buttons, all teeth and tongue. It makes his cock twitch below his belly button.

“Easy when I’m easy, rough when I’m rough.” Redd slips his finger in to past the first knuckle, the second, up to his third, and makes a tight “come hither” motion inside Lohn, who makes a keening noise above him on the bed, his hips raising off the mattress. 

“Moonshine,” he gasps. “More…” 

“Oughta be quiet up there or yer gunna get us kicked outta here,” Redd warns, teasing, and he does as requested, inching a second finger into Lohn who writhes in the sheets. 

Lohn gulps down a breath and searches blindy for the television remote, finds it in the folds of the sheets, and clicks the set on, filling the room with hushed voices of middle aged white women talking about sterling silver necklaces. “Better, Rabbit?” 

Redd snickers and twists his two fingers inside Lohn, getting him to twist and clench, his legs spreading further apart like invitation, biting out a rather loud “Shit!” in surprise. “S’alright, but you know how much I like hearin’ ya this way.” 

Exasperated, Lohn throws an arm over his eyes and huffs, asks, “Well, whatchu want then, Redd? Have me quiet or get us kicked out ‘cuz all the others can hear us matin’ four rooms down?” 

Redd withdraws his fingers, much to Lohn’s mixed disappointment (because he knows what comes next), and stands, still in Lohn’s black cowboy hat and his own orange glasses, his shirt discarded at some point during all this. His smile is radiant. “Get kicked out, we always got the truck, don’t we?” 

Lohn sits up and pulls Redd down to his mouth, gives him a forceful kiss before splaying him out in bed. “Well, I reckon that’s permission to be loud as I want then.” He slings a leg over Redd’s, straddles him, and they lean in close, nose to nose, smiles matching. “Ain’t that right?” 

“Always got the truck,” Redd repeats. His cock twitches, a long, hard line through their underwear, beneath Lohn’s ass. 

Lohn gives Redd another kiss then shuffles back, stands in an awkward squat while he pulls Redd’s briefs down, mid thigh. Lohn grips Redd by two fingers, draws his palm over them like a sword being unsheathed to gather up whatever leftover lubricant is on them, and spreads it over Redd’s erection. “Here,” Redd murmurs, hooking his fingers into Lohn’s panties again to pull them aside, and Lohn lines himself up, a hand pressed flat to Redd’s lower stomach. 

Slowly, Lohn eases himself down on Redd, his thighs trembling the whole way down until he bottoms out and is seated with his knees up by his chest. “ _ Glory _ ,” he hums, licking his lips. 

Redd trails his hands over Lohn’s thighs, settles them to his hips, brushing the pads of his fingers over the spots where Lohn’s waistband bluntly digs into his skin in thin strips of lace and elastic. “Take yer time,” Redd reassures. 

“Bin a while since I been the one this way,” Lohn says gently, ghosting a laugh. 

“Look good this way.” 

Lohn leans in to kiss Redd again, Redd inching up to receive, and in doing this, Lohn rolls his hips slowly so Redd gasps a moan into his mouth when they brush lips. The sound of him, the feeling of his humid breath in his mouth, makes Lohn burn hot like a stovetop, and regardless of whether or not he’s given himself enough time to adjust, he swivels his hips again, gets Redd to pant. The ache and drag inside of him is a good one.

“Lordy,” Redd coos, his hips raising to meet Lohn’s, pumping into him, and getting Lohn to loll back, bowing his spine. 

In the midst of them working towards a steady movement, Lohn gets enough sense about him to reach down between his legs and slip his cock out from his panties, pulling the thin fabric down under his balls so his cock stands free, precum trailing down it in thin, shiny lines. He jerks himself feverishly, his teeth in his bottom lip, his brow pulled together, and he glances at Redd, his face focused and damp with light sweat, long hair all sprawled out by his shoulders in a golden spread. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t last long, it seems, by the way Redd is breathing hard and making noises from the back of his throat.

“Feel good, Lohn?” Redd asks. 

Lohn nods fiercely, puts both his palms to Redd’s stomach as he works his hips faster, his cock bobbing between their bodies. “Real good. Feels so good, Redd,” he sputters. “Look good ‘neath me. Real pretty boy, Rabbitclaw. Look good all fucked out like this. Love makin’ you feel this way.” 

Redd goes scarlet and Lohn presses down on him hard, bottoming out after a cycle of only taking about half of him, and they both make warbly, surprised sounds, Redd pressed to Lohn’s prostate. “L-Love havin’ you this way,” Redd breathes. 

“Love you, Redd,” Lohn whispers. He puts his hands over Redd’s on his hips and Redd gets the idea, helps lift and lower him on his cock. 

“Love you, Lohn Lightning.” 

Redd opens his mouth like he’s fixing to say something when he groans and goes stiff, digs his short fingernails into Lohn’s side, and instead, whimpers out, “Gunna come, Lohn.” And delighted, Lohn grinds his ass in circles over Redd, smirking, keeping his eyes trained hotly down at his partner. 

“Gunna come, too,” Lohn pants, trying to keep his composure, remain teasing and cocky, but his lower stomach clenches and he grips his dick, works himself in wet strokes. Redd moans, his neck craned back into the cheap motel pillows, Lohn’s name on his lips and not much else as he comes inside him, cock twitching, thighs pulled taut. Lohn follows, coming over Redd’s stomach and chest, and despite how badly he wants to clench his eyes shut and go mindless, he keeps himself focused on that sight: Redd’s torso painted with his come, fucked out and dirty, wearing Lohn’s hat, both their bodies covered in a fine layer of sweat. 

“Lord above,” Lohn mutters. He bows his head down, exhaling from his mouth, and his hair falls down around his face in a dark curtain. 

Redd lifts him by the hips and pulls himself out, softening, leans over to the bedside table to grab some napkins and dab them both down until they decide to get up and shower. “I’d say we went at it like rabbits,” he mumbles, amused, and Lohn giggles, caught up in the sheets on his side in his soiled panties. 

Redd takes place next to him in bed and they curl into each other, Lohn twirling strands of Redd’s hair around his finger, Redd holding Lohn by the back of his head. Lohn flicks on a monster truck rally. No one has come knocking to complain about their love ritual so they figure they’re in the clear. 

“Hey, Redd?” 

“Mm?” 

“Where’s my Coke?” 

Redd glances over at him, raking his fingers through his beard. “Reckon out in the truck where we left it.” 

Lohn groans. “Dagnabbit. Ain’t worthy gettin’ dressed jus’ to run out an’ get it.” 

Redd chuckles and kisses the side of Lohn’s head, pulling him in closer so their bodies are flush together. “Getchu another tomorrow.”

“An’ more undies.” Lohn pulls back his waistband and slaps it, prompting Redd to do the same and giggle like a child. “Keep goin’ this way an’ I won’t have enough for the rest of our shows.” 

“We’ll get you more,” Redd says, and he wraps his arms around Lohn, pulls him up over him so Lohn’s head rests on his stomach, kisses the top of his head, and Lohn settles in contented. 

**Author's Note:**

> more rabbit lightning because yes i love them 
> 
> kudos + comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> talk to me on tmblr @ficfucker


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